


Sweet Dreams and Sweeter Realities

by ecapss



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Danti - Freeform, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, Nightmares, Septiplier - Freeform, Slow Burn, dark is emotionally incapable lol whats new, slllllllightly suggestive nothin crazy tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 03:42:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecapss/pseuds/ecapss
Summary: Anti and Dark’s relationship is filled with violence and fighting from the start. As it develops Dark realizes he’s in over his head, but even worse, he can't find the will power to stop it.TL;DR Anti has frequent nightmares and Dark is emotionally incapable. Totally not self serving.





	Sweet Dreams and Sweeter Realities

**Author's Note:**

> I really like the idea that Dark is fluent in french, but I don't know french. Theres a translation for all the words he uses at the end, but they may be used wrong as I looked them up myself and don't know anyone who can check them, so sorry if it sounds weird!  
> ALSO for context, in this AU Mark and Jack are hitmen and their aliases are Dark and Anti. They are normal people, not egos or alters. Jack is younger in this, which is why darks a little condescending at first. Im still new to writing so as always feel free to roast me in the comment section or on my tumblr, ecapss!

There are few moments in life in which Anti finds peace. The day is burdened with constant surveillance; His field of work ensuring that at any instant, a stranger could pick him off just as easily as he's done countless times before. Security measures are put in place, he's not as careless as most assume, but if someone wants you dead, they’ll find a way to do it. Thats what he is, after all. The last (and most expensive) resort of an angry man’s justice, a killer for hire seeking unearned revenge. He’s the glitch in every security system, fast, unrelenting, unpredictable. He is the monster, cautious to the point of paranoia.  
Then comes the night, filled with restless and shallow sleep. The house a little too quiet, his thoughts far too loud. Even on those rare nights, when the tired ache in his bones weigh him down into a bed, the nightmares that follow ruin any rest that could have taken place. It’s not fear keeping him awake, but vulnerability. The trust you place in your surroundings to protect you. Dark bags under red eyes and an inhuman tolerance for caffeine become normal facts of life. At first, Dark found endless frustration in Antis’s sluggish mind after days of no sleep. Any attempt at communication led to blank stares and mumbled responses. All basic tasks took four times as long and the results were always sloppy. They’d deal with their issues as they always have, yelling and fighting about careless mistakes, the zombie like responses, his lack of caution. But instead of responding with shouts and hits, Anti would just shrug. Admitting failure is admitting weakness, and weakness gets you killed.  
On their first overnight job as a team, Dark finally discovered the source of Anti’s insomnia. They'd almost lost their lives thanks to a careless mistake by Anti, a fact Dark makes sure to emphasize on the drive back to whatever seedy hotel they'd live in for the next few days that he couldn't be bothered to remember the name of.  
“You’re far more stupid then I give you credit for. A blind child could have hit that target better then you.”  
“Calm down, I fixed it didn't I?” The green haired assassin slumps against the doorframe, glassy eyes and nonchalant tone telling signs of his exhaustion. By now Dark knows him well enough to know his signs, the biggest being lack of aggression. Anti is not one to back down from a fight, to make things easy. Dark has the bruises to prove it.  
“If that’s what you call revealing our location to half the damn warehouse, then yes, consider it fixed.” The car jerks to a sharp stop and Dark yanks Anti across the middle console by his collar. He leans in, a low dangerous growl on his lips,“I don't know what’s going on with you, but get your shit together. It’s pathetic.” Anti barley processes the swift motion before he’s released, the slam of the car door punctuating his irritated partners exit. He pushes himself up with a shaky breath, eyes falling shut in appreciation of the calm, quiet, empty car. After a minute or so he deems himself stable enough, and robotically makes his way inside, pointedly ignoring any taunts in favor of collapsing on the stiff motel bed. Somewhere his partner continues to lecture about his lack of precision, but his consciousness is already fading.  
Dark wakes hours later to soft mumbling. He groans, unwilling to deal with Anti’s shit before morning, and blindly throws his pillow at the noise. A hoarse scream pierces the silence shortly after that has him instinctively scrambling for light. The dim lamp of the side table flickers to life as Dark raises his gun to an empty room, save for Anti screaming loud enough to alert half the damn hotel.  
“Anti, shut the fuck up.” He grumbles, lowering the weapon. The scream cuts off into panicked pants, and he curls into a tight, visibly shaking ball.  
“Whats going on?” At this point, Dark’s initial irritation melts into confused concern. He'd never seen him react to anything this intensely. Gunshots and broken bones weren't enough to put a dent into his composure. Cautiously, he makes his way to Anti’s bedside, gently pushing the sleeping boys shoulders in an attempt to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in. The response is immediate and violent. Anti thrashes to escape the physical contact, slamming Dark into the nightstand with a shove. The items on the nightstand go flying as it collapses from the sudden weight, dumping Dark and the now broken lamp onto the floor. Now fully awake, Anti frantically scrambles backwards off the bed and hits the ground with a gasp. In the time it takes for Dark to pull himself off the broken table, Anti’s movement more or less settles, staring at him from the opposite corner of the room with the same stance as a trapped animal.  
“What the hell just happened?” The boy standing in the corner flinches at the question, and the pull on Dark’s heart at the action answers why he’s never seen Anti behave like this. He's never seen Anti afraid. Anti has never been afraid of him.  
“I didn’t mean too, I-I’m sorry!” His mumbled apology sounds so miserable Dark wants to hit himself for his recent treatment of his partner. In his normal state, Anti would rather die then apologize. His partners constant exhaustion is due to nightmares, and all he has done is complain about it.  
“God, I’m a fucking idiot.” Dark groans to himself as he steps over the broken hotel room. Comforting people is not his specialty, but emotional manipulation is. Surely this wont feel different then a job, he can handle one panic attack, right? He kneels beside Anti, careful to avoid touching him or invading to much into his space. “You don't need to apologize. I’ll go get another room.” He waits patiently, fully expecting to get kicked out, or punched. Thats how most of their arguments end, albeit with much less emotional confusion. However, this time Anti goes against tradition and pulls on Darks arm until he's close enough to nestle into his chest. It takes a moment to process the surprise and unfamiliarity with gentle physical contact, but soon he complies, rubbing Anti’s back and whispering comforting words as his breathing slows. After a particularly hard choke that sounds to close to a cry, Dark decides apologizing may help his efforts, sighing,“Anti I-”  
“Please don't call me that right now.” The interruption is muffled as he refuses to detach himself from the older man, but a jolt goes through Dark when he understands. They’ve gone exclusively by their aliases for so long, always in front of partners or clients, it’s just become normal. He didn't think Anti knew he knew his real name, especially after ensuring his own remained secret. Lost in thought, the gentle rubs and reassurances had slowed, building a thick silence that panics Anti into regretting the request. He tries to pull away from the embrace, stumbling through an explanation, “‘m sorry, I know you must have gone through my records. You're too cautious to work with anyone if you don’t, and I- just forget I said anything you don’t-“  
“Jack, please breathe. It’s fine.” The look on Jack’s face at hearing his name makes Dark wish he'd said it sooner. A beat of silence, and they're hugging again, this time with the younger trying to unsuccessfully hold back tears. He will hate himself tomorrow for allowing such weakness, but he can deal with it when Dark isn’t smothering him in warmth, letting him hide in his shoulder, and playing with his hair. He stays like that for a long time, softly muttering into Jacks hair until his breathing calms down and the shaking stops. When the boy finally falls asleep in the early morning, he is placed back in bed before Dark sits by the window, desperately needing to smoke. The cold air and the burn from the cigarette are helpful distractions from the stupid thought hasn't left him alone for weeks.  
You love him. 

Over the next few weeks as their “relationship” developed, both were relieved to find their tendency to fight and attack each other remained mutual, with the addition of the occasional adult “sleepover” now and again. On those nights it was accidentally discovered that Anti’s insomnia significantly improved when he slept with someone else, mainly Dark. As they began spending more time, and nights, together, more and more of Anti’s belongings appeared around the house until he'd unofficially moved in. Dark pretend it bothered him, but the boys increasing presence made him happier the he'd ever admit. Most nights, they slept peacefully till morning Anti wrapped tightly around Dark’s side, despite him claiming to hate physical affection. But some nights, he’d find the boy slumped over his desk, face glowing with light from the computer screen, and would have to trick him into going to bed. Tonight, Dark assess the situation from the doorway to their, his, office, fondly watching Anti shiver in one of his stolen baggy shirts thats to big for him and boxers struggle to keep his eyes open. Within moments, Anti’s consciences begins to slip and he slumps back into his chair, eyes fluttering shut. Dark takes the opportunity to sneak forward undetected, gently rubbing the sleepy boys shoulders to announce his presence. He shivers at the sudden touch, Dark’s warm hands making him realize how cold he was. He didn't trust the sudden gentleness, usually reserved for major injuries, and continued blinking his blurry eyes at the screen.  
“Come to bed.” He knew the command would fall on deaf ears, and as predicted, his boyfriend refuses being ordered around, childishly shaking his head and mumbling,  
“I will soon, ‘m almost done.” Dark changes tactics, slowly snaking his hands off Anti’s shoulders and running them down his chest, leaning down to nestle his head into his neck as his hands reach his thighs. Anti hums happily and leans into the soft touches, warmth feeling nice against his naturally cold skin.  
“I don't recall giving you a choice, my méprise,” Any argument at the demand dies in his throat, replaced with a choked whine as Dark bites down on his shoulder. The distraction gives him opportunity to turn the desk chair around without Anti complaining. “Finish this tomorrow.”  
The light touches had become overwhelming in his tired state, and Anti squeaks in protest as Dark pulls back, instinctively reaching out to bring him closer. The older man chuckles and raises an eyebrow at the sudden neediness.  
“I thought you wanted to finish your work?” He whispers, giving in and pressing back against Anti, now squirming in his chair, exhaustion making the light teasing overwhelming. The work long forgotten in his struggle to keep any thought in his head that wasn't Dark.  
“Im so tired- it’s to much don’t- Dark please.” Anti didn't know what he was asking for in the broken begging, but Dark seemed to understand. After all, he initiated this, loving how easy it is to fluster his tired boyfriend, how a simple touch or bite causes him to fall apart under his hands. Hi kisses the overstimulated boy on his forehead before pulling him up from the chair. Anti submits and is taken to bed, sleep clouding over everything but Darks affection and warmth. Pleased, he tucks his head under the older mans chin, mumbling confessions and hums as his boyfriend played with his hair. These nights were rare, but never unwelcome. With Anti long asleep, Dark allows himself to whisper those words that haunt him, staring at the reflections of moonlight that filter through their window.  
“I love you.”

A few years went by, longer then either expected this to last. Dark didn't quite know what “this” was, but he knew it was a mistake the way his heart ached as he carefully left Anti’s sleeping form in the early morning. He never intended for this to mean so much, and despite it being the death of him, he couldn't find it in him to regret any of it. A cold rush of morning air stings his lungs as he sits on the balcony overlooking the beach. The stream from his coffee keeps fogging his glasses, so he sets it off to the side and passes time watching the waves crash below the sunrise. The door opens behind him, announcing the presence of an old friend, one he hadn't seen for a long time. He wastes no time stealing the abandoned coffee before launching into conversation. They talked quietly, shaking off the remains of sleep in favor of catching up and reminiscing. Dark hadn't realized how much he'd missed the man, the way his eyes light up and his hands wave widely as he tells exaggerated stories. The sky began to lighten now, sun almost full in the sky before a half asleep Anti stumbles onto the terrace, wrapped in a fluffy blanket and complaints about the cold. He shuffles his way to Dark, mumbling a greeting to the stranger before collapsing on top of his amused boyfriend, nestling into his chest contently. It takes a moment for him to settle, curling up beneath his blanket before easily returning to sleep and leaving the pair to their conversation. Dark smiles and whispers a good morning into the green fluff of hair. Wilford watches the two excitedly, pleased to finally see the boy Dark had been so instant on hiding for so long.  
“So, it’s true then?” The laugh in Wilford’s voice pulls Dark out of his thoughts, raising an eyebrow at his friend’s giddy grin poorly covered behind a sip of coffee. He drags a nervous hand through his hair, unwilling to get into this conversation just yet.  
“What did those brats of yours tell you now?”  
“It doesn’t take a spy to tell you’re in love, Pitch” The old nickname was said with such fondness that Dark couldn't find it in him to fight it. He struggles to find an answer close enough to the truth to satisfy Will’s curiosity.  
“What a ridiculous claim.” The pained expression paired with a scoff makes it clear Darks bluffs wont cut it.  
“This is the first time I've seen you smile at something that isn’t a corpse. Don't ruin it for me.” Humor was a welcome change of pace, and the two laughed until Anti grumbled about the movement. Amused, Wilford nodded towards the boy, “Also, if anyone else dared touch you, let alone tried to cuddle, you’d throw them from this balcony without hesitation.”  
“Am I really that cruel?”  
“Maybe just a touch.” Wilford winks, “But you're changing. I have him to thank for that.” Dark takes a moment to process the truth of his statement, shrugging as much as he can with a sleeping Anti on his chest.  
“I suppose, irritatingly enough, that you're right.” Satisfied with the confession, Will practically vibrates with excitement.  
“I always am. You should listen to me more.”  
“You know I can’t do that, next you'll be telling me to lighten up my wardrobe with your hideous pink clown costumes.” A horrified gasp of offense sparks more laughter, but this time it feels so much warmer in his chest, warmer then he’s felt in a while. The shaking finally wakes an unhappy Anti, who hastily retreats to the kitchen seeking warmth and coffee. The two follow shortly after, Dark cooking breakfast as Will and Anti get acquainted. A jolt goes through Dark, as he finds himself overwhelmed with emotion watching his past life connect with his future, his odd little family get to know together. He's surrounded by the two people who got to him, despite his best efforts to push them away, and he wouldn't change any of it. And later, once Will leaves with promises of returning soon, and they lie tangled up with Anti’s cold hands pressing against his chest for warmth, Dark feels the loneliness begin to settle in. But this time he wont allow it to stay. He lets himself say what he'd sworn never to say, the thing he’s thought and whispered countless times to Anti’s sleeping form, the thing he’s known for far to long.  
“I love you.”  
Anti smiles, his eyes crinkling up at the corners and Dark swears he can feel the loneliness melt with each word of his response.  
“I know. I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> méprise= Opposite, anti
> 
> THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING  
> I apologize its late, I made it a lot longer then i planned! Hopefully it makes sense, criticism is always welcome as I'm still pretty new to this! let me know what you think! i use to many explanation points!
> 
> roast me on my tumblr, ecapss


End file.
